


Oculanis

by wormghoul



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: M/M, Soulmate AU, Soulmate second sight, bad ideas abound, inappropriate use of google translate latin, pining Barba
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-06-29 02:47:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15720405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wormghoul/pseuds/wormghoul
Summary: In a world where soulmates can occasionally see through each other’s eyes, people with information sensitive professions (like doctors, lawyers, and SVU detectives) are required to wear lenses that block this second sight. Sonny Carisi has never been able to see through anyone’s eyes but his own, so he's shocked when a routine physical reveals he supposedly does indeed have another half out there who's been leaving him in the dark.ABANDONED: MAY 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thatfandomkid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatfandomkid/gifts).



The first thing Sonny noticed was that the waiting room was awfully cold. The chill probably served some medical purpose, but even if it was useful, it was annoying. It was a descriptor Sonny knew well, but he didn’t let it bother him today since he was at the doctor's office as part of a promotion. After years of hard work and dedication, Sonny Carisi was about to become a detective! He’d earned his shield and was moving from Staten Island to Manhattan, quite the prestigious transfer. All that was left now were a few routine medical exams, namely updating some vaccines and other tedious paperwork.

When his name was called he practically sprang though the doors leading into the exam rooms. He chatted politely with the nurse as she took his blood pressure and pulse oxygen, doing all he could to stop himself from spilling out his excitement in a deluge at the poor woman. She wished him luck in his new job when she left. Once again Sonny was abuzz. He was a signature away from a milestone and his eyes flitted from drug advertisement to drug advertisement, barely even registering what the posters said. He didn’t even feel his usual tiny pang of sadness when his eyes rested over the flyer for Oculanis, a new type of soulmate blocking contact lens for the “busy, on the go professional”.

Sonny didn’t have a soulmate, unfortunately. He’d learned the hard way, growing up with only one set of eyes to see the world. There were rough days of course, like when he was a kid watching as Bella sat at breakfast one morning and for the first time saw her crush, Tommy, walking to school. At first, he was jealous of his sisters and mad that God had designed him to be alone, but he eventually grew out of the anger. Sometimes it was even useful, like today, when it meant he didn’t have to worry about meeting soulmate regulations for his job.

When the doctor walked into the small room, Sonny quickly straightened his back. It may have seemed childish to puff his chest out, considering that his paperwork listed that he was here for a work physical, but he really wanted to look the part of a detective. It barely mattered though, since the doctor mumbled something like a greeting before she sat down on the stool to flip through his records without even really looking at him.

“I see you’re in for a…” she flipped through a few more papers, “Government physical?”

“Yeah. Yes.” He stammered out, playing with the hem of his shirt. The happy nervous excited energy had melted into just nerves now that he was faced with his final hurdle. The doctor scribbled a few things down on his chart, likely transferring his numbers over from the little triage session he’d had with the nurse. The silence, punctuated only by the sound of pen scratching on carbon paper was slightly unnerving. The feeling only got worse when the doctor frowned.

“You don’t have a soulmate report on file, Mr. Carisi.” She sounded puzzled.

“I don’t have one, so they’ve never made me take the test.” Sonny deflated a little at the admittance, it was always a touchy subject. He wondered if the doctor would offer sympathies and condolences, but instead she just stood up and opened the small cabinet above the sink to pull out a kit.

“Regardless, you need to have the test results on file before I can sign off on this, you know.” She said blankly with her back turned as she opened the exam room door to wave down a nurse. It would be cliche to say it felt impersonal and clinical, but as he shifted nervously and the sanitary paper crinkled under his ass, he felt almost alien. After a moment, the same nurse as before came back with a chipper smile on her face.

“It’s exciting,” she explained, “it’s not everyday we do these tests on someone your age. I hope it's good news!” Her smile never faded as she drew his blood and gently held a cotton ball to the puncture. Sonny didn’t have the heart to tell her that it would come back negative, so he just smiled back.

The kit was taken somewhere to be stuck into a machine and Sonny was left alone again in the cold room with nothing but his thoughts and the crinkly ass paper to keep him company. He told himself that the test didn’t matter. That he already knew the results. Every morning he woke up alone and every night he fell asleep in much the same manner. He’d never, ever seen anything that wasn’t in front of him in the real world and he’d made his peace with that. He barely even thought about it. So instead he focused his energy into aimlessly scrolling Twitter and being annoyed at the bureaucratic nonsense that culminated in nothing more than itchy gauze tied around his inner elbow.

When the door creaked open about five minutes later, Sonny jumped a little before repeating his peacocking routine and squaring his shoulders for the doctor...who was followed by the nurse who was carrying three boxes and two pamphlets and wore the biggest grin. She walked over and handed him the literature with a bright “Congrats!” before putting the boxes on the counter and leaving. Sonny looked down at the top pamphlet. It was a soothing green with a silhouette picture of a couple standing on a hill. In bold letters the title read: Post-Pubescent Soulmate Discovery. 

“I don’t understand.” The little sentence slipped out before Sonny realized it was forming in his mouth. He looked at the second pamphlet. It was designed in much the same way as the first, except this one's title was “Soulmate Blindness and Explanations”. If he was an inch more dramatic, Sonny would have dropped the pamphlets like they burned him, but he kept a grip on them, one that was maybe too tight. The doctor just gave him a small smile and busied herself with unboxing the things the nurse had brought in.

“It seems you do have a soulmate, Mr. Carisi, just one that is in the dark for some reason.” She went on to explain that it was more common than people thought and it had many reasons. The first and most common being that his soulmate was actually blind or had suffered ocular damage that interrupted the soulmate bond. Sonny stared at the literature in his hands as she went on and on about the myriad number of explanations for the blindness.

“Despite the blindness, which I’ve noted in your chart, the law still mandates that you wear obfuscating lenses while on the clock. Do you understand?” She asked while setting up a pair of glasses and a couple of contact cases. Sonny nodded numbly, folding the papers as small as possible before shoving them him his pocket.

The doctor walked him through their options before Sonny settled on, ironically, a pair of  Oculanis contacts. They were supposed to be comfortable and long wearing, barely intruding on the life of the wearer. Contacts were also ideal for his job, since glasses could fall off and break during a foot chase. The doctor had suggested the Oculanis brand specifically since they were designed to have a more natural feeling and didn’t need the constantly application of eye drops, which might help ease Sonny’s transition into even having a soulmate.

Sonny walked out the door with an approval in one hand and a six month supply of contacts in the other, not to mention the nagging beginnings of a headache forming in the back of his skull. His view had been flipped completely upside down in just under twenty minutes. It didn’t take long for the world to starting changing either, since the driver of the cab he’d hailed congratulated him on the discovery after noticing the box. It was going to be a long transition. 


	2. Chapter 2

On the brighter side of transitions, Sonny fit in with his squad pretty quickly and with only minor adjustments. When his new Lieutenant introduced him to his partner, she had at first looked at him so critically that he was certain she could somehow see the contact lenses because of how uncomfortable they made him. But instead she’d shrugged and told him to shave. Which he did of course, to everyone’s palpable approval. When he walked into the bullpen the next day, clean shaven for the first time since his academy days both his partner and the Lieu smiled and said he looked much better. The rest was history.

He made good friends with them all, actually, including ADA Rafael Barba, whose reputation as a prickly person preceded him. Sonny had been worried at first that the man didn’t like him, since he often took every opportunity to insult him. After a while though, Sonny started seeing the the jabs and insults for what they were: friendly banter. So he started firing back, which blossomed into a unique and treasured friendship. It only got better once he enrolled in law school, which massively expanded the contents of the armory. Once or twice he’d even gotten the man to smile honestly. Sonny felt like the king of the world when he did that.

Over the past year, not everything had gone as smoothly as his new job. Foolishly, he’d fallen into bad habits in the care and keeping of his Oculanis lenses. Sonny fluctuated between telling himself that the test was a false positive or a conspiracy sponsored by Big Soulmate. No matter how he sliced it, Sonny always came to the conclusion that the lenses were useless. He thought this was especially true late at night after catching a cab home from 1 Hogan Place. If he really had a soulmate, they would feel like Rafael, wouldn’t they? There was even one notable night where he actually stayed up late and tried to imagine what Barba would be seeing to try and jumpstart a connection. But when he was blind as ever, Sonny knew it was all fake. Legally though, the lenses were necessary. He could face charges if he got caught without them while he was at work, no matter how much he insisted he didn’t have a soulmate. So he split the difference and started to not even take them out until they started to irritate him. Which is how he’d stretched that first 6 month prescription into a 2 year supply with only minimal feelings of guilt when he let the boxes of renewals pile up in his bathroom.  

Sonny knew it was time to change this particular pair when he was sitting in Barba’s office going over some witness statements he’d taken and transposed. He had trouble focusing on the words and his eyes itched, making him reach up to rub at them every so often, visibly annoying the ADA. It wasn’t the first time the discomfort had flared up around Barba, but it was so bad this time that he’d even resorted to sticking his finger to his eye to physically adjust the lens. Sonny would be a liar if he didn’t admit that he leaned into the act a smidge just to see Barba scowl, relishing in how the expression had gotten infinitely softer over time, and it was soft even now, when Sonny was purposefully being a prick. Sufficiently aggravated, Barba reached over and shut the folders with a sigh before pulling down his glasses to rub his eyes like the itch was contagious. Barba only wore his reading glasses after hours, and it was a privilege and a rarity for Sonny to see. He’d had it explained to him in a roundabout way; Sonny received a dressing down from Barba for, well, dressing down. The ADA spent at least 10 minutes espousing the value of looking strong, which apparently did not include wearing reading glasses.

At the risk of sounding like someone hot for teacher, Sonny thought he was wrong, he preferred Barba in his glasses; they made him look smart and mature, like the proper force of nature he really was. Sonny watched enraptured as an iridescent shimmer on the lenses caught in the low light of the office, their telltale glimmer giving them away as soulmate lenses. Sonny suddenly didn’t care that his eyes hurt because his heart had dropped into his feet. He’d been carrying a torch for Barba practically since they'd met, and somehow he’d only just noticed the man had a soulmate. The feeling made his liquid lunch sour and it didn’t help that the tips of his ears colored when Barba caught him staring at the glasses when they slid back up his nose.

“Are you done staring at me, detective?” Barba asked with a furrowed brow while collecting the rest of the files, cleaning up for the night. He even snatched a few papers from Sonny to shove into his desk drawer. “It’s late, and I’m done for the night,” he said, turning the drawer key and securing his paperwork before getting up and crossing the office. “Besides, I’m sure you’d like to go home to whoever is making your eyes itch like that.”

The statement took Sonny aback for a moment before he laughed a little too loudly as a way of shaking off the embarrassment of having a crush on a paired man. Barba winced at the noise, making him spill a bit of the scotch Sonny hadn’t noticed he’d been pouring, he then fixed him with a biting look. Unlike other looks from the evening, this one had all its teeth.

“Oh no, I don’t have a soulmate,” Sonny clarified, quieting his laughter behind a cough. Perhaps placated, Barba nodded and poured a second glass and offered it to him. They gave a weak cheers before he settled down next to Sonny on the couch. Sadly, the revelation of Barba’s paring hadn’t taken immediate effect, and the soured coffee curdled in his stomach as butterflies tried to break out from under a layer of unease. At his age, (not that he thought Barba was _old),_ the math worked out that the man had already found his soulmate. Maybe he’d been with them a long time. Images of a high school aged Barba appeared in his mind. Had he been the type of person to hold a piece of paper with his name in front of his face, hoping that fate would degin to show it to their soulmate? It was a sweet image that melted away with the condensation dripping from the side of his glass. Sonny took another sip of scotch to drown the butterflies. Barba studied that move and Sonny could see a question formulating behind his eyes.

“So why do you wear the contacts, then? Glutton for punishment, Carisi?” Barba’s voice was carefully neutral and Sonny didn’t like it, he preferred to have a gauge on the man, even though that was...a vague thing to grasp.

“Well,” Sonny took a deep breath, “They say I have one, but I’ve never seen them. I didn’t even know they existed until the blood test I took to get my shield.” At the explanation, Barba took a substantial sip from his own drink as a shadow crossed his face like a curtain closing over a stage.

“What about you? Why’re you sitting here drinking with _me_ , when there’s someone waiting for you?” Sonny asked in kind. Barba sighed, loosened his tie, and rubbed his eyes again. The little jostle of the frames lit up the coating again. A cold drop of condensation slid from Sonny’s glass and down between his fingers as they tensed. 

“It’s complicated,” Barba replied, swirling the remains of his drink. Sonny knew better than to press, so he just nodded and mirrored the other man, muttering an apology down the rim of the glass. He was no stranger to complicated soulmates. He was living through yet another one of those imperfections right now. After that, a comfortable silence settled between the two men as they finished their drinks.

“I’ll admit, Carisi, I wasn’t keeping track but that was perhaps the longest silence I’ve had the honor of experiencing with you.” Barba goaded before taking the empty cup from him. It was a vague insult, sure, but that was what they did. It was good, it was comfortable, it made Sonny smile. Unlike his contacts, which had chosen that very second to flare up again, this time far worse than earlier in the evening. The discomfort stoked the already building aggravation burning in his gut and quite gracelessly Sonny stood up and took out the lenses before unceremoniously flicking them into a nearby trash can like the useless, moment ruining shits they were. Barba stared at the trash can like Sonny had lit it on fire.

“It’s a damn good thing I’ve already put the paperwork away, detective,”

“Sure is, counselor” he responded, staring at the contacts as they rested against an empty paper coffee cup. “Wouldn’t want that certain special no one to see.” The bitterness in his voice was entirely foreign, making the air in the room cloudy as uncertainty flowed off of and between the two men. When Sonny looked away from the shriveling lenses he saw Barba digging through one of his desk drawers. Once he found what he was looking for, he tossed it to Sonny; it was a little unopened bottle of eyedrops. Sonny turned it over in his hand, appreciating the gift.

“For next time,” Barba said walking towards the door to grab his coat, “So you don’t subject me to whatever that display was or find yourself neck deep in a lawsuit.” he motioned towards the door, telling Sonny it was time to leave. He muttered a thanks before pocketing the bottle and getting his own coat.

Once in the elevator they made inane small talk until the door dinged and let the men out into a mostly darkened lobby. They made tentative plans to meet again after Sonny’s upcoming day off to go over the remaining witness statements before Barba could take the case to court, letting the elevator lull follow them onto the street. Naturally, they lived in separate directions, so they parted ways on the sidewalk with a handshake before Sonny wandered away to catch a cab around the corner, equal parts embarrassed and irritated. As he walked, the weight of the little bottle of eyedrops slammed against his leg with the pattern of a broken heartbeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys so much for all the support already! I love y'all, I hope you enjoy!


	3. Chapter 3

Soulmates, for many, were a simple fact of life. You saw through their eyes, watching and waiting to meet them, and when you did meet, you usually married them and then lived life together, fulfilled as nature intended. For others though, it wasn’t so simple. There were people without soulmates, or with dead soulmates or people who labored under any number of complications life could throw at a person. The complicated path set before him started with the fact that Rafael Barba was born with terrible eyesight. Baby Barba walked into more walls than a drunk, which earned him a terribly cute pair of taped-on baby glasses. What wasn’t so cute about the glasses was what his mother had done to them. With several still healing bruises peeking out from under her clothes, Lucia Barba managed to sweet talk a young optometrist into putting a soulmate coating on her infant son’s glasses and had it written into the prescription so the treatment was applied every time he got a new pair.

As he grew older, Rafael eventually learned what the “special coating” on his glasses was for. He felt betrayed and had even gone through a phase of not wearing his glasses at all, stumbling around the block in search of his soulmate to spite his mother. It was all for naught, since his eyes had formed and grown having seen exclusively through the coating his soul bond was already damaged from premature and extended exposure. There was a deacclimation process designed to help reverse these side effects, but it wasn’t guaranteed to work, unlike his mother, who worked very hard to convince him not to care about the risk of permanent harm to the bond; she talked all about how he would be too busy with school and changing the world to have a soulmate. That had worked spectacularly. Young Rafael put his glasses back on and stopped caring about finding his soulmate. Until last night.

Sonny Carisi’s sad face as he laughed about having a blind soulmate hit him hard. Despite the feeling certainly not being reciprocated, Barba felt something for the young man. He was smarter than Barba would ever give him credit for, he had a kind streak, and it certainly helped that he had a nice ass. To him, Sonny was the kind of person who would make a good soulmate and actually deserved to be with his cosmically assigned other half.

His doctor had told him there was a 73% chance that his prolonged exposure to bond blocking chemicals during his formative years had damaged his bond beyond repair and he would never see his soulmate.

So he didn’t know why he walked into his living room and took out his contacts. He felt strangely naked without them and of course, couldn’t see very well. Barba had to take a deep breath to calm himself and consider what he could gain from a moment’s discomfort. It was Carisi’s day off, so he wouldn’t be wearing his contacts either. It was like he was a teenager again; Rafael thought that maybe if he focused hard enough, or god forbid,  _ prayed _ , he could see his soulmate for the first time. He didn’t know what to expect as he waited, hoping it was actually the lanky detective. Despite being a man who wore a belt and suspenders, Barba hadn’t really thought about what he would do if his soulmate wasn’t Carisi. But it had to be, right?

Sonny Carisi had grown on him somewhat like mold. At first he was painfully eager and Rafael had tried to cut him down to size, but all that did was encourage him. No matter how he snipped or quipped, Carisi would still drop by his office with some zeppole or cannoli or pizzelle that came with a side order of questions about the law. Rafael had suspected the detective had fallen asleep during his academy classes, but as they grew ever closer, the questions grew more nuanced. Eventually, he learned that Carisi was in night school, hoping to get his own JD. He felt used for free tutoring, even telling the man  “Booyah, Fordham Law” with a voice full of disdain. Carisi had shaken it off in a manner that reminded him of a Golden Retriever. “Heigh-ho Harvard” he’d replied, startling a rare smile out of Rafael. The man was just so fucking genuine.

Closing his eyes at the onslaught of good memories and warm pastries, Rafael thought that Carisi deserved a better soulmate. If they were paired, that would mean that Carisi, wonderful loud Italian Catholic Carisi, would have been given a blind soulmate who was quite an odd match. For starters, Carisi was likely straight and wanted a baseball team full of kids running around. Rafael was gay and the thought of children sparked a low grade headache. Carisi smiled like it could cure the common cold, and the mention of Rafael’s name caused many to think of his signature scowl. The list was infinite.

But there was an equally unending list of good reasons, starting and ending with the fact that Sonny Carisi had gotten him to believe in his soulmate again. After his first little rebellion ended in defeat, Rafael figured that was the end of the line. How sad was that? To be ten years old and think you would never find your other half. That sadness matured into something darker in college, when he’d once confided in Rita Calhoun that his soulmate certainly hated him. After all, he’d damaged the bond, essentially leaving them adrift without moorings. She’d of course, responded appropriately and swatted him multiple times with a rolled up class outline. She told him that he’d find them, spiralling into some cosmic nonsense about the universe. At the time, he didn’t believe her, but now...it had to be Carisi, it had to have worked out.

It didn’t. After four hours of laying on his couch, he’d seen nothing and had a pounding headache as his eyes failed to adjust. Pretending not to be upset, Barba stumbled through his apartment and crawled into a bed that felt empty for the first time. The sheets were soft against his skin, but provided no warmth and very little comfort for his wounded heart and head. His hands itched to reach over to his nightstand and slip on his house glasses, but just as he’d joked with Carisi last night, it felt apt to be a glutton for punishment. He fell asleep like that, with one arm thrown over his face to block out the light. He dreamed of Carisi.

In his dream it was fall, and soft golden light framed the detective's face against the backdrop of Central Park, where leaves were gently fluttering by on the breeze. It was happy and warm and wordless, like those high brow avant garde films everyone assumed he liked but he actually hated. Hand in hand, they walked through an open courtyard to a bench, Sonny’s smile never fading. Rafael could feel every sensation like it was real and he was weightless, carried completely by the strength of the joy that Sonny deserved. But as they sat down together, a dark vignette crept into the corners of Rafael’s vision, growing, encroaching, swallowing the picture until the only thing left was a pair of sad blue eyes, glowing in the dark. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I move into my dorm again tomorrow, so this is the last of the daily updates...enjoy the suspense babes.


	4. Chapter 4

He couldn’t explain it, but every once in a while Sonny started to feel warm, like being wrapped in a golden afternoon. Maybe his little outburst in Barba’s office was cathartic enough to cleanse enough of his growing anger. Most of the squad had noticed the ways he’d changed over time, like garnering a short fuse and harsh tone. Rollins had been looking at him differently, too, almost cautiously. Even the Lieu seemed a little more wary. After all, an angry partner was...less than ideal. Besides the unusual bouts of the warm fuzzies, some of his good mood had to do with Sonny actually using the eyedrops Barba had given him a week ago and the fact that he started taking better care of his contacts. He liked to believe there was a correlation between the two, like a little reward for not being the worst about soulmate hygiene.

It was the middle of his next day off when he felt it again. There was a satisfied feeling building from his toes and it filled him up. A smile crept across his face as the feeling spread across his shoulders and bloomed in his chest. The comforting feeling made his eyes heavy and he let them slip closed.

But it wasn’t just darkness behind his eyelids, he saw something! It was hazy and ill defined, and in his shock, his eyes flew open and the image fled. Sonny quickly closed his eyes again, heart racing frantically under his ribs, hoping he could recapture that flicker.

When the image focused, he was on a subway platform that was completely deserted. Time seemed indiscriminate as several trains came and went, doors opening and releasing no passengers before sliding away without so much as an announcement to stay behind the nonexistent safety line. The place was almost stalled, or in limbo. It worried Sonny deeply. If he was seeing through his soulmate’s eyes, then this was either a terrifying or sad place to be. Actually, where on earth could they be? From his limited and static vantage point Sonny couldn’t see much at all, but the platform seemed fractionally wrong, not matching up to any station he’d visited.

Soon, another train arrived, its doors remaining firmly shut. Suddenly, his viewpoint began to move towards the frontmost compartment, nearly running. Hard soled shoes moved frantically, cracking against the concrete as they went. Despite the pace picking up, they seemed to make no progress, even as they jumped to a dead sprint when the train’s air brakes disengaged with a hiss. In one of the windows, a figure turned around, it’s features obscured by dirty glass. Arms pumped at his side as they ran, and he caught glimpses of an expensive watch and the shine of nice cufflinks on their upswing. All that wealth was worth nothing as the train began to move. They weren’t going to make it. The figure in the window knew this too, and it placed a hand to the glass as if to say goodbye.

“Sonny!” A man's voice called out as the train slipped backward into the tunnel. The sound was distorted, echoing off the bleak tile walls before ringing in his ears. Then there was nothingness; an inky blackness surged forth from the mouth of the tunnel, licking at the cracked support columns and blank advertisement boards before swallowing Sonny and his mystery vessel.

Sonny opened his eyes to his unchanged living room, gasping like he’d surfaced from deep underwater. The TV still played the same rerun of a medical drama and his Pad Thai take out was still hot. But the warmth had changed to the pinprick sensation of a limb falling asleep and it felt like hours had passed, like he’d spent so long on that train platform. His bones thrummed with the desperation of that man as he sprinted after that train and his own name still rung in his ears like a bad bout of tinnitus. His soulmate vision seemed more like a nightmare. But as far as he knew, that was impossible.

Once feeling returned to his fingers, Sonny grabbed for his phone and did what any good millennial would do: googled it.

_Seeing Soulmate dreams_

The first link (after the obligatory ads for more Oculanis lenses and dream interpreters) was published by a .gov page and seemed fairly reliable. Skimming the page, he found out that it was entirely possibly, but rare, maybe even rarer than being truly unpaired. He didn’t know if he should celebrate, laugh, or cry at this revelation. Instead of deciding, he took a large bite of his take out, trying to give the noodles his full attention. But he couldn’t. He put down his chopsticks and took stock of what had just happened.

He had a soulmate.

His soulmate knew his name.

His soulmate had pretentiously symbolic dreams.

With shaky legs, Sonny stood up and walked over to his kitchen to retrieve a notebook from his junk drawer. He made a list of potential candidates, of the men he knew that fit the fit the description and are suitably dramatic.

The list started and ended with Rafael Barba.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s short, unbetad, and written in a dunk spurt of inspiration. Pls enjoy? Maybe?

**Author's Note:**

> surprisemotherfucker.gif


End file.
